


Uncrowned Lord of Azkaban

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Azkaban, Crack, Dementors, Gen, Humour, archiving old fic, but with new chapters, unionism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 23:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of first year Harry is arrested for killing Quirrell. In Azkaban he befriends the Dementors, meets his godfather, institutes a regular poker game and ponders the question of a Dementor Union.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Azkaban

**Author's Note:**

> I started this in 2009, after reading the excellent fic _All the Dementors of Azkaban._ I've had a half-finished chapter saved on my hard drive for years, and I decided I might as well finish it and post it. Since I was doing that much, I decided I'd post it to AO3 as well.

**Chapter One**

Harry stared up at Azkaban prison with a foreboding feeling, as water sloshed into the boat.

Perched atop an inhospitable piece of rock jutting out of the sea was a tall dark castle. The Aurors called it a fort, but it was clearly a castle.

It didn’t look like a nice place. Harry thought about leaping out of the boat and trying to swim for it, only there were two Aurors in the boat with him and Harry didn’t really know how to swim anyway, plus he was in manacles.

“I seriously didn’t kill my defence professor,” Harry tried half-heartedly. “At least, all I did was grab his face.”

The problem with being famous for defeating Voldemort, Harry had found, was that people didn’t really believe you when you said that he’d been possessing your teacher, who you didn’t really meant to die, honest.

“Whatever,” said Auror with Receding Hairline, who’d heard Harry’s story before. Harry frowned  
sadly.

“Here we are,” sneered Big-Nosed Auror, as the boat pulled up to the little jetty where two more Aurors were waiting. “Welcome to Azkaban. Have a nice life.”

Because of that Harry waited until he was out of the boat, then said,

“Everyone thinks your nose is truly huge, you know.”

As Harry was led away Big-Nosed Auror swelled angrily while Auror with Receding Hairline turned purple trying not to laugh.

* * *

It was boring in Harry’s cell. There was a lumpy mattress and worn blanket in one corner, and a chamberpot in  another, and the rest of the cell was bare and stony and damp. The other prisoners seemed to be mental, yelling and moaning at all hours of the day and night. Harry tried to talk to the man in the cell next to his, but he started shrieking “DRUMS DRUMS DRUMS DRUMS!” and banging his head against the wall, and for some reason the other cell next to Harry’s had a dog in it.

Every now and then people in weird fluttery cloaks went gliding past like Morticia Addams, and every time they did the other prisoners moaned or went silent, and the air turned cold.

Harry was curious.

“Hi,” he called out the next time one went past. “I’m Harry.”

The cloaked person paused, and turned towards Harry. Their cloak swirled around them like mist.

“Cool cloak,” said Harry, impressed.

_Thanks_. The voice was chilly and simply appeared in his brain.

“How do you make it do that?” Harry asked. It was even more awesome than the way Snape’s robes billowed as he stalked over to you like a bat of doom. Or something.

The person stared at Harry for a minute.

_ You are a very strange child. _

They went gliding onwards.

A bowl of porridge and a squishy spoon arrived in Harry’s cell several hours later. Harry wondered about the spoon, until he saw the drums bloke trying to stab himself in the head with his own.

In the other cell the dog had been curled into a ball on top of its mattress, but at the appearance of food it changed shape. Harry watched in surprise as a mass of tangled hair and skinny limbs unfolded itself and approached the bowl.

“That was awesome,” said Harry. “I saw Professor McGonagall turn into a cat once, but she said we couldn’t learn about turning into an animal until N.E.W.T. year.”

The dog-man stared at Harry with hollow eyes.

“James?” he croaked in wonder.

“Harry,” Harry corrected.

The next moment the dog-man was wailing about how he didn’t do it and Harry had to believe him, and he was going to kill that rat Peter and he was so _sorry_.

“Uh, okay?” Harry tried.

Eventually the dog-man calmed down.

A thought seemed to strike him.

“We’re in Azkaban,” he said slowly.

“Yeah.” 

“You’re in Azkaban.”

“That’s right,” Harry agreed, wondering if they put drugs in the water or something.

The dog-man pondered this for a while.

“What are you doing in Azkaban?”

“I accidentally killed my defence professor,” Harry explained. “But he was being possessed by Voldemort at the time, so I don’t think it should count, but the Wizengamot didn’t agree with me and sent me here.”

“Bastards,” Dog-Man growled, seemingly becoming more aware of things.

“DRUMS!” screamed Drums Man, and began banging his head against the wall of his cell. There were the usual mad jeers and encouragement from the other inmates, but they had absolutely no effect in any way.

Dog-Man was frowning.

“We need to get you out of here. At your age, exposure to Dementors will drive you insane nearly straight away.”

“Dementors?” Harry inquired.

“The creatures in ethereal cloaks that suck the emotions out of everyone,” Dog-Man pointed out.

“No they don’t.”

“What?” Dog-Man blinked.

“They don’t suck emotions out,” Harry argued.

“Yes. They do,” Dog-Man said slowly, but as though he were thinking this time. “Are you saying that they don’t affect you?”

“No,” said Harry.

Then two Dementors went past and Dog-Man retreated back into a huddle of black fur.

Harry waved as the Dementors went by.

* * *

Over the next few days Harry heard all about how Sirius, as the Dog-Man was called, had ended up in Azkaban, and more about what Dementors were.

When he and Sirius weren’t talking Harry found that he could hear the Dementors speaking in other parts of the castle, in flat chilly voices.

During one of Sirius’s naps Harry listened to an argument over the last Test; apparently Dementors suddenly listened to muggle cricket broadcasts using a wizarding wireless set.

It was during a subsequent discussion over a lethifold infestation on the third floor that Harry interrupted.

_ What’s a lethifold? _

There was a sudden silence.

_Who are you?_ one of the Dementors asked.

_I’m Harry,_ Harry replied.

_ You’re the child that we cannot feed from? _

_That’s right,_ Harry confirmed. _How come you can all talk in your heads?_

There was a conversation just out of Harry’s range.

_It’s how we communicate,_ a Dementor said finally, sounding wary but intrigued. _If you are a wizard, you should not be able to hear or speak to us. Who are you?_

Harry explained.

* * *

Sirius woke one morning to find Harry surrounded by Dementors.

“Harry? Are you playing poker with those Dementors?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed. “They say I have a pretty good poker face, but I need to learn to shield my emotions more.”

“Why aren’t I unconscious and reliving my worst memories?” Sirius suddenly realised that he was strangely unaffected by the Dementors presence.

“I asked them not to feed off you, because you’re my godfather, and the guy on the other cell because he yells ‘drums!’ a lot, and it’s distracting,” Harry explained.

Sirius frowned as he noticed small details about the Dementors in Harry’s cell.

“I seem to remember having a very strange dream involving that Dementor,” Sirius noted, pointing at one with a rip in its cloak.

“He says that it wasn’t a dream, and he really did play gobstones with you that one time,” Harry translated. “You called him Bob. It was really boring that day.”

Bob gave a small wave and went back to looking at his cards.

Sirius shook his head, but continued to watch as Harry had a friendly poker game with several soul-sucking fiends of Azkaban.

“Do you reckon I could leave my cell for a while sometimes?” Harry asked his new friends. “Because it’s kind of cramped in here, and rather boring, actually.”

_You’re in a cell for a reason,_ a Dementor said austerely.

“Only because they don’t want me to escape, and I shouldn’t be here anyway. It’s not my fault no one believed Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort. It wasn’t like I was the one who went around claiming I defeated him as a baby. Someone else did that. Besides, when you think about it, it’s a dumb idea. How could a baby defeat a majorly evil Dark Lord like that? Anyway, I promise I won’t try to escape. It’s not like you guys bother me.”

_We’ll consider it_ , one of the Dementors conceded reluctantly.

Two days later during the next poker game, Drums Man suddenly spoke up.

“Can you pass me one of those butterbeers?”

The Dementors had raided the Auror’s stores the previous night and stolen some decent food and drink, after Harry had complained that the unvarying meal of porridge was making him depressed, especially since his last bowl had had weevils in it.

“Sure.” Harry passed a bottle through the bars between their cells. “What are you in for?”

“I might have killed someone,” Drums Man admitted. “But he got on my nerves.” He eyed Harry. “What about you, kid?”

“I accidentally killed my defence professor when I was possessed, but it’s not so bad here, apart from the porridge.”

Drums Man wrinkled his nose.

“I know, _porridge!_ It ought to qualify as a form of cruel and unusual torture – who _wants_ to eat porridge, I ask you?”

“Who are you?” Sirius interrupted. The Dementors had transferred him to Harry’s cell for the duration of their poker game. He was losing rather badly. He was even worse at shielding his emotions than Harry was.

“Call me Harry,” Drums Man said blithely.

“That’s my name,” Harry said in surprise.

Drums Man shrugged.

“Call me Tesmar, then, if you must, since I concede things could get a little confusing otherwise.”

“Why do the Dementors make you scream about drums?” Harry wanted to know.

“My neighbour used to play them at all hours,” Tesmar explained. “I couldn’t take it anymore and went up there and killed him. Sadly the Wizengamot was not impressed by my defence that he deserved to die. But whenever the Dementors affect me – and I _have_ noticed that they’re not doing so right now, by the way – I find myself back in my apartment, desperately short of sleep, _listening to that bastards’ infernal drums._ ”

He snarled the last part.

“Last year one of our neighbours was learning how to play the tuba,” Harry volunteered.

Tesmar shuddered.

“Ugh.”

“Dudley stuffed it down a street drain. I think it was the only time I ever agreed with him about taking someone’s things.”

“I’m not musical at all,” Sirius observed, rather happily.

Harry threw a handful of popcorn at him.

“Do you mind if I join your game?” Tesmar gestured at the gathering in Harry’s cell.

Tesmar was transferred to Harry’s cell and proceeded to win three bottles of butterbeer, a tin of spaghetti and Sirius’ robes.

“What am I supposed to do now?” a mostly-naked Sirius whined.

“You should have thought of that before you bet your clothes,” Tesmar said smugly as he was escorted back to his cell. “This will make a nice addition to my blanket on cold nights.”

Harry put the remainder of the case of butterbeer over the by wall, and his deck of cards on top.

_Good game_ , he told the Dementors happily.

One ruffled his hair as it left.

* * *

The next day one of the Aurors turned up with Professor Dumbledore, who had come to see how Harry was doing.

“Potter, you have a visitor,” Ice-Cool Black Auror intoned. He was bald, but in a cool way, and looked like Samuel L. Jackson.

“Hi professor!” Harry chirped. He was reading a totally unsuitable magazine that Harry nonetheless found rather interesting in a way he had never considered before. He knew it was totally unsuitable because Sirius had told him that as Harry’s godfather it was his duty to tell him so, and added that he wanted to read it when Harry was finished.

One of Ice-Cool Black Auror’s eyebrows slowly rose as he considered Harry’s half-full case of butterbeer.

“That looks strangely like a case of butterbeer that went missing in the guardhouse a couple of weeks ago,” he told Harry.

“Really?” Harry asked innocently.

“You seem to be getting along remarkably well, Harry,” Dumbledore finally spoke up, after silently watching Harry for several minutes.

“No thanks to you,” Sirius growled from the next cell. “First I’m framed for murder and shoved in here without even a trial, then my eleven year old godson is stuck in here for defending himself against a possessed professor. You’re slipping, you senile old bastard.”

Harry’s jaw dropped in awe at Sirius insulting _the_ Albus Dumbledore so.

Dumbledore’s gaze was suddenly alert, and he looked at Sirius intently.

“Were you or were you not the Potter’s Secret Keeper?” he asked sharply.

“Since you finally thought to ask, _I WAS NOT!_ ” 

Sirius roared the second part.

Tesmar cackled.

“Is that an adequate answer?” he inquired, chortling.

“Are you sure that you didn’t have a trial?” Ice-Cool Black Auror asked.

“Not at all,” Sirius replied, with awful sarcasm. “For all I know they simply held it when I wasn’t there. That would be just Crouch and Bagnold’s style.”

“Sir, how long have I been here?” Harry interrupted.

“You have been here for precisely one month,” Dumbledore said. He extracted a huge wad of letters from his pocket. Harry wondered how on earth they’d fit in there. “I have here a collection of letters from your friends, as well as a request for an interview from one Luna Lovegood on behalf of her father’s magazine. I understand that as a friend of young Ronald’s sister, she was privileged to hear his views on your incarceration a number of times.”

“Cool!” Harry took the letters happily. “Could you get me some paper and a pen and some ink, professor? And maybe a robe for Sirius? He keeps moaning about how Tesmar won it in our second-last poker game, and it’s annoying.”

“You’d moan too if you were practically starkers in a cold cell!” Sirius protested. “And you’d better do your damn best to get Harry out of here and me a trial, you geriatric coot, or all the curses of the Blacks will rain down upon you.”

“I will do my best, on all counts,” said Dumbledore, glancing at Harry who was mouthing ‘ _geriatric coot?_ ’ and looking impressed.  “Kingsley, I am sure that you can see to the writing materials, and the robe?”

“It won’t be a problem, Albus,” Ice-Cool Black Auror agreed.

“Very well. I will bid you farewell for now, Harry, but I will be back once I have news. Is there anything you would like me to bring with me next time?”

“Something to read,” Harry said immediately, “and some chocolate, and do you think you could get hold of a poker rulebook for me? Because there’s been some argument. If it’s not too much trouble that is, sir.”

* * *

Once Ice-Cool Black Auror brought back the paper and quills and ink and a robe for Sirius, Harry settled down to read his friend’s letters while Sirius rhapsodised over his new robe, and how it was made of _wool_ , and so soft and warm.  Afterwards Harry wrote replies to all the letters, and thoughtfully responded to Luna Lovegood’s interview questions.

One of the Dementors promised to send everything for him, so Harry sat down with a bottle of butterbeer and thought about his friends.


	2. Interview with 'The Quibbler'

** HARRY POTTER: INNOCENT? **

One month ago the wizarding world was thrown into uproar by the conviction of child hero, Harry Potter, for the murder of Hogwarts Defence Against the Dark Arts professor Quirinius Quirrell.  
  
Since then, Britain has been seething with debate over the truth of the matter.

Several days ago however Harry Potter himself was kind enough to respond to a request for a written interview sent by Luna Lovegood on behalf of _The Quibbler_. His replies shed a new and worrying light on the issue of his imprisonment.

Is it true that the Ministry has not only arrested someone innocent of wrongdoing and sentenced them to time in Azkaban, but has done so before? That they have refused prisoners something so basic as a fair trial, and the right for their innocence to be heard? If so, then Mr Potter speaks only the truth when he says of the public’s attitude towards the Ministry’s actions, ‘I just think that people should use their brains more, I guess.’

The questions asked of Harry Potter, and his illuminating answers, can be read on page 2.

__ Xenophilus Lovegood, ed.

* * *

** AN INTERVIEW WITH HARRY POTTER   
BY LUNA LOVEGOOD **

**Q.** First of all, how has your time in Azkaban been so far?

**A.** It hasn’t been too bad here, actually. I mean, the conditions are horrible and they only feed us porridge, which is disgusting, and my friend Tesmar says will lead to severe malnutrition if left unchecked, but I’ve been making friends so I’m actually pretty good. They put me in a cell next to my godfather, Sirius Black, who as it turns out is innocent -  he was never even given a trial, which is just wrong. The real betrayer of my parents and murderer, Peter Pettigrew, is out there somewhere, after framing Sirius. He’s an animagus and can turn into a rat, so if anyone sees a grey rat missing a front toe, they should stun it and check to see if it’s really an animagus.

**Q.**   Is it true that your arrest is part of a conspiracy to hide the fact that the Ministry has an army of Heliopaths?

**A.** Sorry, but no. I was actually arrested for accidentally killing my Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. He was possessed at the time, though, and trying to kill me, so I think that it should’ve counted as self-defence, but the Wizengamot didn’t believe me. He was being possessed by Voldemort, see, and because everyone ‘knows’ I defeated Voldemort, they said I had to be making it up.

But honestly, who started the whole ‘Boy Who Lived’ legend anyway? No one else was there. It was just me, my parents, and Voldemort, so how does anyone else know what happened that night? It’s not like anyone’s ever asked me. Besides, I was a _baby_. How could I possibly have gotten rid of Voldemort? And even if I did manage it somehow, no one ever said I killed him. It makes perfect sense that he could be floating around as some kind of angry ghost-spirit-thing.

**Q.** Do you think that school-age students should be sentenced to time in Azkaban?

**A.** No. I don’t. 

**Q.** Finally, Harry, do you have anything to say to the witches and wizards of Britain?

**A.** Yeah, I do. I think that the people of Britain should think and act for themselves, instead of just going with whatever everyone else thinks. My friend Hermione says wizards are sadly lacking in common-sense, and she’s right. My godfather was thrown into Azkaban without a trial even though he’s innocent, because no one could be bothered and because they all ‘knew’ he was guilty. I was thrown in here too, because everyone ‘knew’ I defeated Voldemort so he couldn’t be possessing my professor. And I wouldn’t even have had to go after him in the first place if my head of house hadn’t ‘known’ that the object he was after was ‘perfectly safe’ and refused to listen to me. I just think that people should use their brains more, I guess.


	3. Lord of what?

_ Dear Luna & Xenophilus, _

_ Thank you for my complimentary copy of The Quibbler. The photo of me that you used for the cover was a nice one – I didn’t think there were any current photos of me, so I was surprised.  _ _ I thought that the interview turned out well. Thank you for the chance to tell my side of the story.  _ _ I found the article on the movement for goblin unionization really interesting. I was wondering, if it’s not too much trouble, if you have anything more I could read about unions? _

_ Sincerely, _  
_ Harry Potter _

* * *

Several days after Harry sent off his letter, one of the Aurors came to see him, levitating a large box.

“Oi, kid,” said Big Ears. “This came for you. Return address is ‘The Quibbler Head Office.’ You expecting something like this?”

“Yes thanks,” Harry said happily. Big Ears unlocked the cell door and dumped the box on the floor.

“Technically prisoners aren’t supposed to be allowed mail, but I tell you, what’s it coming to when a bloomin’ kid like you’s in here? It’s not right. Have fun reading your books.”

“Thank you,” Harry called after Big Ears.

The box turned out to be full of books with titles like _Socialism for Dummies_ and _The Communist Manifesto_ and _A Guide to Voluntary Unionism_.   
Harry read _A Guide to Voluntary Unionism_ first.

Three hours later he picked up _Socialism for Dummies_.

After that, there was no stopping him.

It took Harry five days to read all the books in the box. They’d seemed pretty incomprehensible at first, but once he began to grasp the basic ideas things began to get easier. And they made a lot of sense.

Harry raised the idea at the next poker meeting.

“I think you should start a union,” Harry told the Dementors.

Everyone stopped to stare at him.

“A union?” Sirius asked carefully.

“Yeah. Think about it,” Harry insisted. “To ensure adequate rights and working conditions for Dementors. Proper wages, days off, healthcare, that sort of thing. Then there’s feeding,” Harry appealed to the Dementors. “You guys feed off emotions and souls, right? Okay, it’s kind of cruel to just let you devour people’s souls, but what about emotions? The prisoners here are utterly miserable. They should be given comfortable cells and decent food to cheer them up. That way you’d have happy thoughts to feed off all the time instead of having to wait for new prisoners, and since the prisoners would still have their happy feelings eaten away all the time no one could say they weren’t being punished properly.”

The Dementors looked at each other.

“Harry, you scare me,” Sirius said.

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Tesmar observed, interested. “It’s unusual to find those kind of planning skills in someone your age. Tell me, have you considered taking over the world in order to extend your reformist policies? I mean, why stop with the institution of a Dementor Union? The wizarding world is a corrupt place with attitudes and social policies that haven’t progressed since the nineteenth century.”

“Harry’s not taking over the world!” Sirius barked at Tesmar.

“But Sirius, he’s got a point – the Wizengamot is made up only of prominent pureblood families, for a start. The Lovegoods sent me a couple of books about the government.”

“Dammit, Harry,” Sirius said, frustrated and alarmed.

One of the Dementors gave a loud rattling cough to attract their attention.

_An interesting idea,_ he told Harry. _How would you achieve it, though?_

Harry began to explain.

* * *

The next day Harry set out to explore Azkaban. As the unofficial chairman of the tentative Dementor’s Union, Harry had convinced them he wasn’t going to leave the castle any time soon, and they had decided to let Harry roam where he liked.

Harry’s cell turned out to be on the fourth floor out of seven. 

He avoided the third floor as best he could as the lethifold problem still hadn’t been fixed yet, but headed down to explore the lower floors. The second floor turned out to be a set of long-abandoned barracks. There was a giant hall, and lots of dormitories. Harry found that the linen cupboards in the dormitories tingled with magic, and they proved to be filled with thick blankets on one side, and clean black robes on the other. Harry made a mental note to bring some back upstairs for the others later.

Each dormitory had a bathroom, and after some effort Harry managed to turn on one of the rusted taps.  He had a nice long bath and rinsed his hair before drying himself off on a blanket and changing into one of the clean black robes, which shrank to fit him when he put it on.   
Harry found the armoury next, which was awesome. There were swords and maces and daggers and weapons Harry didn’t have a name for, as well as big machines like catapults and things. Harry had lots of fun looking at everything, especially the swords. The hilts were all decorated with runes and images and things. Harry’s favourite was a sword with a silver dragon winding around the handle. It had red eyes and looked really sinister. He decided to take it with him to explore the rest of the castle. 

For some reason the first floor staircase was locked by a heavy wooden door, but as soon as Harry touched it the lock clicked and the door swung open. Harry went down the spiralling staircase until he found himself on the first floor.

“Wow,” Harry said in awe.

He was in another hall, but this one had beautifully carved tables and chairs and colourful tapestries on the walls, and glittering crystal chandeliers. At the far end of the room sat an impressive throne that looked over a large open space of floor. 

While Harry was looking at a tapestry of some bloke beheading another bloke, Dementors began pouring into the hall. 

Within minutes there were a thousand or so Dementors in the hall, all staring at Harry.

“Uh, hi?” he tried.

_You were able to open the door?_ Bob asked in surprise. Harry had mended the tear in his cloak for him, but the Dementors had only been able to find Auror-blue thread, so it was pretty obvious where Harry had sewn it up.

_Yeah?_ Harry wasn’t sure what was going on.

_The last Lord of Azkaban enchanted that door so that only his worthy descendants could open it,_ one of the Dementors Harry played poker with said solemnly. _That makes you his heir and the rightful Lord of Azkaban._

_Oh._ Harry considered this for a second. _Do you suppose that’s why I can talk to you and why you can’t feed off me?_

_ Undoubtedly. As the Lord of Azkaban you are our liege lord, and we are bound to do your bidding. _

The idea upset Harry.

_But you guys have rights!_ he argued. _You shouldn’t have to do what I say just because I’m your lord or something. That’s not fair!_

_It is what we were created for,_ one of the Dementors explained. _Besides, the lordship carries responsibility for our welfare. It’s not as though we don’t get something out of it._

Harry brightened.

_ Does this mean that I can force the Ministry to accept the demands of the Dementors Union? _

_ It does. _

_Fantastic!_

* * *

“Hey Sirius,” Harry announced, arriving back at his cell. “Tesmar. We’re moving.”

“Moving where?” Tesmar wanted to know.

“Why are you wearing a sword and a signet ring?” Sirius asked with mild dread. By now he’d learnt that Harry was a very strange child, and weird things happened around him.

“It turns out I’m the Lord of Azkaban,” Harry said happily. “We’re moving into the quarters of the Azkaban Court. I’m taking the Lord’s rooms, but you can pick one of the others. They’re awesome. They’ve got giant beds and baths the size of swimming pools and everything.”

“Baths?” Sirius repeated hopefully, perking up. He hadn’t had a bath in over ten years now. 

“Yeah. Will you guys be my court advisors?”

“I’d be delighted,” Tesmar grinned. There was something worrying about that grin, as though he were planning something wicked and thoroughly enjoying it. “It sounds fun. I’m in.”

“Me too,” Sirius agreed.

“I talked to the house elves, and they’re delighted there’s a Lord again,” Harry continued. “The Head Elf is going to get more elves now that the Court level is being used again, and I’ve explained my ideas about making the prisoner’s cells more comfortable and he’s going to set that up. You should see him, he’s seriously old, and he’s got all this hair coming out of his ears and everywhere.  Anyway, I’m going to visit Gringotts tomorrow to get access to the Azkaban vaults, and to Ollivanders for a new wand. There’s some spare wands downstairs, and they work okay, but I really need one of my own.”

“We’re coming with you,” Sirius said firmly. “The goblins can be sneaky. I’m a Black, we were all trained how to deal with this sort of thing from the time wee were kids. Although, our tutor stopped taking us on practical excursions after we shut him in Regulus’ trust vault. Now I think about it, I’m pretty sure that was Bella’s idea. She was like that.”

“And I want a new wand,” Tesmar spoke up, disregarding Sirius’ reminiscences. 

“Sure,” Harry agreed.

* * *

The next day the three of them Flooed to Diagon Alley. Sirius was wearing a set of navy robes he’d found in his wardrobe, but Tesmar had transfigured his robes into a neat muggle suit with a wand one of the Dementors had stolen from a careless Auror.

“Being a wizard is no excuse for sartorial inelegance,” he sniffed, adjusting his tie. “A suit is far more stylish and modern than a set of robes. I refuse to look twelfth-century just because the wizarding world is incapable of progress.”

Harry himself was wearing intimidating black robes with crimson accents, as well as his ring and his sword, and a black cloak over it all to hide his identity. He would have looked more menacing if he’d been taller, but that couldn’t be helped. Two of the Dementors has insisted on escorting him, so people were quick to get out of his way as he approached Gringotts.

“Hey,” Harry greeted the goblin at the front counter, flashing his signet ring. “I’m here about the Azkaban vaults.”

Behind him someone screamed “SIRIUS BLACK!” 

A moment later there was an appalled gasp and an outraged “ _did you see how he just gestured at me?!_ ”

Harry could hear Tesmar laughing.

“Snicktooth will escort you and your entourage to the Azkaban account manager,” the goblin said to Harry. A younger goblin approached him, glancing at the Dementors with apprehension.

“Follow me,” he said, in what passed for polite for a goblin.

As the group followed him Sirius told Harry and Tesmar about how he and his cousins had been banned from Gringotts without adult supervision until they turned seventeen, after they’d kidnapped a goblin and kept him in the cellar at Sirius’ house for a week until Gringotts worked out where he was, and sent a curt message to Sirius’ parents requesting the return of their employee.

“We used to have fun whenever we got together,” Sirius said fondly.

Their goblin guide was sending them unnerved glances. Harry wondered if all the Blacks were insane.

Tesmar kept smirking at the goblin, which seemed to make him even more nervous.

Harry, his two advisors, and his Dementor escorts were shown into a large office. The goblin there seemed to recognise Tesmar.

“You!” he growled.

“Me,” Tesmar grinned.

“Why, you –!”

Sirius covered Harry’s ears for the next word.

“Sirius!” Harry complained, trying to squirm free.  _ Guys, make Sirius leave me alone! _

Harry realised that the goblin was suddenly staring at him, as though he had heard.

“So this is your new Lord?” The goblin frowned at Harry. “He is very young.”

“And he already has solid, sensible plans for revolution!” Tesmar declared cheerfully. “I like him.”

After that Sirius and Tesmar and the goblin spent the next hour arguing, but the important bit seemed to be that since Harry had no problems wearing the Azkaban Magic Signet Ring, he was officially Lord of Azkaban.

Harry got the goblin to draw up some papers saying that Sirius was declared innocent of all charges by the Desmesne of Azkaban, and giving him citizenship. He offered citizenship to Tesmar as well, but Tesmar said that he was quite happy being one of Azkaban’s prisoners for now, although he appreciated the offer. 

The relevant paperwork regarding the lordship was forwarded to the Ministry, and Harry and his companions set off to get new wands from Ollivander’s.

* * *

A week and a half before Harry’s twelfth birthday, Dumbledore was brought down to Court where Harry, his advisors, and several of his subjects were sitting at one of the long tables planning his birthday party.

“Good morning, Harry, Sirius,” Dumbledore greeted them. 

“Hi professor!” Harry called back.

“Congratulations on acquiring the lordship,” Dumbledore said, smiling. “The announcement was the cause of quite some consternation at the Ministry.”

_How do you feel about some Dementor children your own age attending?_ one of the Dementors asked.

“That sounds awesome,” Harry told her, “But only if they have enough control not to feed off the other guests.”

The Dementor wrote that down, and Harry turned back to the headmaster. 

“Sorry, sir. We’re planning my birthday party. I’m really looking forward to it.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Harry. I am sorry to have to say that my efforts to have you released, and Sirius given a fair trial, have been of little use.”

“That’s okay,” Harry said reassuringly. His plans had changed a bit since discovering he was Lord of Azkaban. “I was wondering, since I can’t go back to Hogwarts, do you know anyone who’d be willing to work as a tutor?”

Dumbledore thought about it.

“I may indeed know just the person. Would the fact that they happen to be a werewolf be of concern to you?”

Harry shook his head.

“Nah, we can just lock them in one of the empty dormitories on the second floor on the full moon. We can empty it out first, and that way they’ll have room to run around and everything.”

“In that case, I shall speak to them as soon as possible,” Dumbledore said. “In the meantime, if there is anything you need, do not hesitate to send me an owl at any time.”

“Thanks, professor,” Harry said happily.

“You are quite welcome, dear boy.”

* * *

_ Dear Guest, _  
_ You are invited to attend the twelfth birthday celebration of Harry Potter, eighth acknowledged Lord of Azkaban. _  
_ The celebrations take place on the 31st of July, from 11.00am until 6.00pm. The celebrations include a banquet lunch. _  
_ Please note that the dress code is considered semi-formal. The Floo destination is Azkaban Fortress, Court Dining Hall. _  
_ RSVP by the 24th July to Event Planning Committee, Azkaban Fortress. _

_ Regards, _  
_ S. Black and T. Tesmar _  
_ Official Advisors to the Lord of Azkaban _


	4. Harry's Birthday

The morning of Harry’s birthday he woke early. After showering and dressing, Harry went out into the Dining Hall.

During the night the house elves had covered all the tables with dark red tablecloths and pushed several together to form one long table, and set them with delicate china crockery and silver cutlery. A bunch of silver candlesticks, and a couple of epergnes that looked rather like twisted silver trees and were filled with fruit, acted as decoration.

“Why is everything always black and red?” Harry asked a lurking Dementor. He was wearing his dramatic black and crimson robes again.

_They are the colours of the Azkaban heraldic shield,_ the Dementor explained. _My lord, may I introduce you to one of your guests?_

_Sure,_ Harry agreed.

The Dementor turned and sent out a wordless mental call. A moment later a very small Dementor even shorter than Harry glided over.

_This is Sound of Water Dripping on Moss,_ the adult Dementor told Harry.

Harry was still getting the hang of Dementor names. Instead of words, each Dementor was associated with an image or sensation that acted as a name. For the little Dementor Harry received a glimpse of dank darkness and the sound of water droplets landing softly on plush, green moss.

_Hello,_ Sound of Water Dripping on Moss said shyly. Her Dementor  ‘cloak’ was yellow, and she was clutching a teddy bear.

_Hi,_ Harry greeted her. _How come you’re yellow?_

_One of your advisors did it for me._ She held out the teddy bear. _This is Mr Ted._

_He’s very nice,_ Harry said politely, looking at the worn bear. _So you’re coming to my party?_

Sound of Water Dripping on Moss nodded bashfully.

_ Thank you for the honour, my lord. _

Before Harry could reply, Sirius burst into the hall, pursued by a furious Tesmar.

Tesmar’s eyes were dark and snapping, gleaming with malevolence. His stride was intimidating and purposeful.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked Sirius as his godfather ran up to him in search of protection.

“He’s throwing the Cruciatus around like water!” Sirius panted.

Harry eyed him in cynical suspicion. Someone his age shouldn’t have been cynical, but he knew Sirius rather well by now.

“Why?”

“It was a prank!”

“Harry,” Tesmar asked, “can you send that _idiot_ over here please?”

“What did he do?” Harry asked curiously.

“He’s overreacting!” Sirius told Harry.

“My rooms are filled with water, and _fish!”_

Harry turned to Sirius.

“Fish?”

“They’re nice tropical ones,” Sirius explained helpfully. “They’re very colourful.”

Harry thought for a moment.

“You’re not allowed to hurt him,” he told Tesmar.

Tesmar’s vicious grin did not reassure Sirius at all.

He ran for it, and Tesmar stalked after him.

Harry shook his head and went to eat breakfast in his rooms.

* * *

A bit before eleven people began Flooing into the vestibule next to the Dining Hall, to be checked out by Sirius and Tesmar and several Dementors. Sirius had a maddeningly itchy and painful rash across his face that spelled ‘BERK’ which he hadn’t been able to remove. Tesmar had felt he deserved worse, but didn’t want to upset Harry on his birthday.

Luna and Xenophilius Lovegood arrived first. Luna drifted over to Harry, her father trailing after her, looking dreamily amicable.

“Hello Harry Potter,” Luna greeted him. 

“Hi, Luna,” Harry said cheerfully, eyes fixing on the blue safety-pins dangling from her ears. They matched her dress robes perfectly.  “Cool earrings.”

Luna’s slightly shy smile brightened, and she turned to her father.

“Hello,” Xenophilius said vaguely, staring at his own hand before sticking it out for Harry to shake.

“Hello,” Harry agreed. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

As Harry tried to have a conversation with Xenophilius and Luna, which was difficult but interesting, people trickled into the hall.

A tired looking man with brown hair streaked with grey entered with Professor Dumbledore. The two of them waited nearby until Harry finished his conversation and turned towards them.

“Harry, I would like you to meet Remus Lupin,” said Professor Dumbledore. “He is interested in becoming your tutor.”

Harry shook hands with the man.

“I would very much like to be your become your tutor,“ said Remus in a quiet voice. “If you do not mind my saying so, you have grown to look very much like your father. I was a friend of his.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he realised why the name ‘Remus’ seemed familiar. He sent a quick message to one of the Dementors.

“I’m afraid that my advisors will have to approve your being my tutor,” he replied in a polite, but clearly reserved voice.

Out of the side of his vision Harry could see Sirius approaching.  As he saw who Harry was talking to he stopped dead, before continuing forwards.

“Your advisors?” Remus repeated, sounding puzzled.

“Hello, Moony,” Sirius said quietly.

Remus froze, and slowly turned around.

There was a long moment of silence as the two old friends stared at each other.

Sirius scratched his rash absently as he stared at Remus.

“I’m so sorry, Sirius,” Remus said, a little brokenly. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Sirius inhaled on a harsh breath and pulled Remus into an emotional hug.

“Of course,” he said into Remus’ shoulder. “And can you forgive _me_ , for thinking that _you_ were the spy?”

Remus gave a slightly shaky laugh.

“Of course.”

The hug lingered on, neither man quite ready to end the moment yet.

_Are they going to kiss?_ Sound of Water Dripping on Moss asked curiously, coming to a stop next to Harry. 

He made a slight face at the idea.

“No, I don’t think so. I hope not. I really don’t want to see them kiss. That would be gross.”

Remus made a choking sound while Sirius burst out laughing, and both men stepped away from each other.

“Merlin, no,” Sirius chortled, snickering. 

“I think our masculinity has been insulted, Padfoot,” Remus said ruefully, smiling. He looked curiously at Sound of Water Dripping on Moss.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat, his eyes twinkling.

“Sirius,” he asked politely, “I assume that you won’t have any problems with Harry’s proposed tutor?”

Sirius blinked.

“Tutor? Wait – Remus?”

Remus nodded.

“Albus assured me that the… requirements… of my condition will not be a problem.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got an empty dormitory you can run around in,” Harry assured him. “We can just lock it and make sure no one goes in there.”

“See, Moony?” Sirius said, smiling. “It’s fine.”

“Excellent,” said Remus. “That just leaves one important question. What in Merlin’s name did you do to deserve _that?_ ”

He gestured at Sirius’ forehead, grinning.

* * *

For Harry, the best part of the morning was when there was a shout of “ _Harry!_ ” and the next minute someone with frizzy brown hair collided with him at high speed, before proceeding to give him a strangling hug.

Harry flailed a bit under the assault, trying to loosen Hermione’s death grip enough to breathe properly, while Sirius and Tesmar stood there grinning at him.

“Ooh,” cooed Tesmar mockingly. “How _sweet._ ”

Harry gestured desperately at him. Tesmar rolled his eyes, still grinning.

“I hate to interrupt, young lady,” he said, saccharine-sweet, “but I’m afraid you’re strangling dear little Harry.”

Hermione gasped slightly and immediately stepped back. Harry a deep breath, feeling relieved.

He looked around to see Ron standing nearby, waiting awkwardly.

“Hello,” Harry offered, smiling broadly at them both. “Welcome to Azkaban Fortress.”

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione wailed. Harry noticed with alarm that her eyes were filling with tears. “We were so worried about you!”

“Er –” Harry patted her shoulder awkwardly. Hermione gave a sob, and grabbed him for another hug. “I’m fine?”

He exchanged a slightly desperate look with Ron, who shrugged.

There was the flash of a camera.

“Sirius!” Harry glared at his godfather. “Tesmar, steal it!”

Tesmar grinned widely, and lightly tickled the back of Sirius’ neck. Sirius yelped and jumped forward, and Tesmar simply plucked the camera from his hands as he went past.

Smirking, Tesmar took a photo of Sirius’ startled expression.

“If you’ll excuse me,” said Tesmar loftily, “I have blackmail material to gather.” He stalking off, camera raised ready to take photos. Sirius ran after him.

“Mate, who was that?” Ron asked.

“That was Tesmar, one of my advisors,” Harry explained. “He’s a bit mental, but Sirius is worse.”

“Sirius?” Hermione repeated.

“Yeah, he’s my godfather – he was thrown in Azkaban without a trial for helping Voldemort kill my parents, but he was framed,” said Harry. “I’m not sure whether he’s a bit crazy because of Azkaban, or if he was always that way, but he’s okay really.”

“You don’t mean Sirius _Black?_ ” Ron asked in a strangled voice.

“Yes I do,” Harry replied firmly. “Come on, Ron. Do you really think that Professor Dumbledore would have let everyone come here if they were in any danger?”

“I don’t know,” Ron said slowly. “Dumbledore has some awfully funny ideas, sometimes.”

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed in outrage. “Don’t be so disrespectful! Harry’s right, Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t have let us come here if Mr Black really was a murderer. He’s not the sort to allow criminals around children.”

Harry decided not to tell anyone that Tesmar genuinely had killed someone. It was probably best if that remained a secret.   
“It’s almost time for lunch,” he told his friends. “I should probably go find my advisors so they can announce it. I’ll be right back.”

Harry found Tesmar unobtrusively hexing people’s shoelaces so they were tied together. It wasn’t very nice, but it was fairly harmless, so Harry ignored it. Besides, Tesmar had just hexed Professor Dumbledore’s shoelaces, and Harry was genuinely curious whether the professor had noticed or not.

“It’s almost time for lunch,” said Harry. “Can you tell everyone to sit down?” 

“Why not.” Tesmar pointed his wand at his throat and muttered _Sonorus._ When he spoke his voice came out really loud, and everyone stopped talking and turned to listen. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IF YOU WOULD PLEASE TAKE YOUR SEATS, IT IS TIME FOR LUNCH.”   


Each of the table settings had someone’s name next to them on a little card, telling everyone where to sit. As everyone milled around looking for their own name, Harry seated himself at the head of the table. Seated on his right side were Sirius, then Tesmar, while on his left were Ron and then Hermione. It was traditional for the Lord of Azkaban’s most trusted people to sit with him near the head of the table, and Harry figured that his two best friends definitely counted.

Lunch was delicious, and everyone seemed to enjoy it. Harry was glad to catch up with his friends, while Sirius and Remus spent the entire time talking to each other.

Afterwards everyone played traditional wizard party games. Most of them had to be explained to Harry, but once he understood how to play, they were all a lot of fun. 

The last thing that Harry did before everyone went home was open the presents that everyone had brought him. Most of them were things Harry didn’t really care about, like goblets and jewellery and stuff, but some of them were more interesting: Professor Dumbledore gave Harry a really cool watch with planets on it that Harry didn’t understand at all, Remus gave Harry a practice snitch, while Hermione and the Lovegoods had both given Harry some books on history and things that might be useful. Ron, of course, had brought Harry a large box of sweets, which Harry also appreciated.

“This is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” he told Sirius and Tesmar, once everyone else had gone home.

Sirius just ruffled his hair fondly.


End file.
